


Wishes on Her Eyes

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18610927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: Spike and Dru have turned a sugar mama but her grasping sister and her irate fiancé suspect them of her murder.





	1. Coney Island, 1927

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** \-- Whedon owns them, not I
> 
> **Timeline** \-- Set in 1927
> 
> **Warning** \-- The undead being mildly kinky.
> 
> **Author’s Note** \-- This was published way back when but I’m not sure exactly when, probably 2001-2003. I'm thrilled this wasn't lost in the computer crash because it's no longer anywhere on the web. I absolutely loved writing historical Spike and Drusilla (and upon rereading this, I was really into researching the flapper era clothing!)

Chapter One - Coney Island, 1927

_Every night she comes_  
To take me out to dreamland  
When I’m with her  
I’m the richest man in the town  
**Coney Island Baby- Tom Waits**

 

“Are you sure about this, Dru?” Spike tightened his arms around his moonbeam beauty. They were three years shy of their fiftieth anniversary. Fifty wonderful blood-soaked years. He went to sleep at dawn loving her and woke each night thanking the fates that brought him to her. 

He swept his eyes over her. Dru looked smart in her brand new patent leather shoes and her crazy crossword puzzle stockings that made him want to paint words in the boxes with his tongue. She wore a russet Coco Chanel ‘machine aesthetic’ dress that shined under the lights with its metallic finish and black trim. A red Cloche hat perched on her head with its black ribbon threaded through it like an arrow meaning ‘she had pledged her love.’

Women fascinated Spike. Women of his mortal days sent silent messages with their corsages and tussy-mussies, each flower, each bend of a stem meant something to potential suitors and the women around them. Now those messages were sent by their hats. Arrow straight ribbons for promised women, ribbon in a firm knot to say they were married and flirtatious bows for the single girls. He didn’t know why they needed these silent warnings and knew he’d never quite remember it all. It didn’t matter. Dru was his, and she was more beautiful than Clara Bow. The “It” girl had nothing on his dark princess.

Dru wiggled against him, her eyes on the monumental structure in front of her. “Couldn’t wait to get here.”

That was true, Spike knew. There was still enough light to make their skin prickle when Dru urged him out of the Oriental Hotel. They had cadged the room from a wild young redhead named Annuciata di Gobeo. Ann had money to waste, which she did with abandon. Spike and Dru had hooked up with her in the Harlem nightclubs where they drank and danced the night away. Ann introduced them to cocaine but it burned the insides of Spike’s nose so badly he bled. He didn’t care for it. Dru had gotten more than slightly out of control and took out a good portion of the Cotton Club hyped up on the stuff.

Ann paid for a room in the Oriental Hotel for a month. Dru was entranced by the opulence. Spike had to admit the hotel reminded him of an English castle but made of wood instead of stone. The expense guaranteed their wait-staff would conform to every wish, which would leave them undisturbed in the daylight hours. And the closet was big enough for him and Dru to tuck in tight like spoons in a drawer if need be. But the curtains were so thick and rich they impeded all light and so far they had slept in the bed like royalty.

Last night Ann died. The Pinkerton detective employed by the hotel was first on the scene and had blamed it on one of her many boyfriends and her drugs. It seemed Ann had a reputation that her idiot fiancé didn’t know about. Spike had met said stiff once in the city with Ann’s sister, the ridiculously prim Emily. He didn’t know what name Emily had been anglicized from nor did he care. That would mean he took an interest in her.

Just so he was not suspected of murder, Spike made sure he was seen making an ass of himself in the hotel’s bandstand area. Dru had killed Ann just as the young lady had wanted her to. They’d be waiting for her resurrection. Until then, Dru wanted to play in Coney Island. Spike didn’t blame her.

So many meals walking around and all sorts of new and exciting things to do, like the one Dru had led him to just shouldn’t be missed. The Cyclone promised something neither vampire had experienced. Oh, rides of its ilk had been around for nearly as long as they had been together, but Spike and Dru had never found time to try one out. The Cyclone was the newest and supposedly the best. It had only been running two months and in the hot August night it stood like a beacon.

“You’re sure?” he asked again. Spike wanted more than anything to ride it but he wanted to give Dru an out.

“I want to soar,” she said, her arms fluttering like a bird’s.

“And you will. Guess we should stand in the queue.”

Once in line, Dru let her hands play over the printed silk Sulka shirt Spike wore. He loved the way her hands moved the silk over his chest. It was erotic, and he knew she found it so as well. His suit was black as was his fedora. He wore “Oxford Bags” and didn’t think he’d ever get used to them. The bagged trousers flared out nearly two feet around his legs and rustled when he walked. His steps could be heard from a good distance. But tonight he wasn’t being a predator. He was out for some fun with his lover, and he could afford to be fashionable. And fashionable they both were thanks to Ann buying them wonderful wardrobes.

After what seemed like an interminable wait, they were in a car and ready to ride. Spike kissed Dru’s cheek as the car started up the incline. Her blue eyes gleamed bright with exhilaration. He felt his own excitement ratcheting up with every jerk of the car as it climbed the first hill. If he breathed, he’d be holding his breath.

The car crested the summit, and Spike saw the eighty-five foot drop. He could have sworn his heart started beating. Clutching her cloche hat to her head, Dru let out a piercing screech as the roller coaster car rocketed downward. Spike was only dimly aware of the screams ripping out of his own throat. As the roller coaster twisted through its figure eights, he and Dru shrieked their joy to the world. It ended all too fast for Spike.

He and Dru stumbled away from the ride, a little weak-kneed. Dru was giggling uncontrollably. Spike grabbed her and kissed her deeply, his tongue caressing the roof of her cool mouth. He stroked a lock of her walnut hair. 

“Thank you.”

A quizzical look touched her blue eyes. “For what?”

“For letting me live long enough to enjoy...this.” He waved his arms to encompass the Cyclone. He might have lived to see it on his own but he’d be old and not able to enjoy it.

“Where would I be without my darling Spike?” she asked, and he kissed her again.

“What next, pet?”

“The Wonder Wheel,” she demanded.

Spike led her, hand in hand like any other pair of young lovers in the park, to the Ferris wheel. Dru cooed with delight watching it slowly rotate around while they stood on line to get on. Her enchanted laughter rang through the night as they were lifted back into the sky and as their car slid from outside of the wheel to the inner wheel and back again. They found themselves perched at the top of the Wonder Wheel while it paused for off-loading.

He took the advantage for a good snog. His hand played with Dru’s exposed knee, rolling the silk stocking under his fingers. She probably had no idea how excited seeing that bare knee made him. After decades of seeing women armored in skirts, petticoats and corsets, the current dress was incredibly erotic. To think, when he was mortal a bared ankle was considered a sin, something not done and now Dru was sitting next to him bare to the knees like all the other women in the park. His lips traveled to her neck as the ride started turning again. Her hand strayed to his lap and the hardness there. She tapped his cheek and pushed him away.

“Bad boy, Spike. We have time for that later. Play now,” she scolded.

Spike didn’t argue. Dru always made time for him when he wanted her. Sex could wait. The park had different thrills to offer. They had gone from the Wonder Wheel to the Tilt-a-Whirl, which left them both unsteady and nauseated, but in a good way. Spike was sitting Dru down on a park bench, sharing candy floss when someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away from her.

“I should have known you two would be here having fun.”

Spike barely restrained himself, keeping his face nice and human. He could feel the cotton candy sticking to his lips and realized he had to look ridiculous. He knew the weak-chinned little man standing before him, fury in his watery grey eyes. Alester Hetherington must have been Ann’s father’s choice for a husband since Spike could see nothing in this man that would have captured Ann’s heart. Spike knew her father had made Croesus’ fortune from bootlegging and figured he was trying to buy his way into high society by marrying Ann to this cretin. Why he didn’t marry Emily, who had accompanied Alester to the park, Spike couldn’t fathom. They were perfect for one another. Evidence of that was the way she stood next to him protectively. 

“You don’t want to be laying hands on me, mate,” Spike said, struggling to keep his temper under control.

“You killed my Ann, and you’re out here, having fun,” Alester said, jabbing a finger into Spike’s chest.

Spike resisted hurting the man. It would never do to have the police looking at him before Ann woke up and told him where she had hidden the rest of his payment for making her a vampire. “I had nothing to do with Ann’s death. Just ask the police. I was near the stage in the bandstand when she was killed. Drusilla was with me,” Spike said. Dru had been there for a while, of course, to give the illusion she was still with him at the time of Ann’s death. The police usually dismissed women as suspects, which is why it had been decided Dru do the actual killing.

“The police are fools,” Alester said, not backing down.

“The police are right. My Spike wouldn’t kill anyone,” Dru said, struggling not to laugh.

“Spike. That’s not even a proper name. How the police can’t see what’s in front of them I’ll never know. I know you killed my sister, and I’m going to do something about it,” Emily said, shaking in her out-of-style, long-skirted dress.

“I wouldn’t be making threats if I were you,” Spike said, flicking a strand of her dark brown hair where it poked out from under her unstylish hat. “And we don’t really feel like talking to you, so if you don’t mind.”

He pulled Dru to her feet and started off down the boardwalk. Alester grabbed his arm dragging him to a halt. Spike just stared at the pasty hand. “If you don’t unhand me, the police will be interested in talking to you,” Spike said rather pleasantly. Alester paled and let him go.

When they were a good distance away, heading back to their hotel Spike muttered, “That galls.”

“Should have killed them.” Dru wrinkled her nose, staring back over her shoulder.

“Can’t, love. The police are getting smarter all the time. We don’t want to have to go on the run before Ann wakes up and gives us all that nice money,” Spike said. “Let him play the tough guy. Once we get paid and collect Ann, all three of us can kill him.”

Dru laughed. “I want to kill Emily, myself. She said such mean things about me back in the city. I should have taken her eyes out then.”

“I know, pet. And you will. I promise. Now let’s find us something to eat. I’m feeling peckish.”


	2. Dancing the Night Away

Chapter Two- Dancing the Night Away

_She's a rose, she's a pearl_  
She the spin on my world  
All the stars make their wishes on her eyes   
**Coney Island Baby – Tom Waits**

 

“It’s like magic,” Dru said, standing on the fringes of the dance.

Spike smiled down at her. He tipped her chin up and feathered a kiss across her painted lips. He wasn’t used to seeing her with short hair. She should have been wearing her hair in a shingle, a style that was very close to the head to accommodate those ubiquitous cloche hats. It was nearly in a bob, as long as it could be and still be fashionable. She had cried when the hairdresser they found, and later ate, cut off her beautiful walnut tresses.

He was the one who had encouraged her new look. A bandeau graced her head, beaded with jet beads and peacock blue glass ones. A few peacock feathers trailed over her glossy hair. The kohl around her eyes made them exotic and deep like any actress who smoldered at them from the silver screen. Spike liked to take Dru to the movies since she loved them so. He enjoyed movies, too, even put up with her crush on Valentino but he shed no tears when the star died last year. Dru, on the other hand, had wept herself silly as if death was something strange and new to her.

Her crimson lipstick made her as luscious as a banquet of nubile young women to him. He couldn’t resist. He pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened to him, letting his tongue slip in. He pulled her close, his hands on the small of her back, feeling the jet and peacock beads on the silk rolling under his fingers. He loved this dress, beads, silk, silver embroidery like hieroglyphics and fringe hiding her knees. 

He adored these new fashions and Dru, with his encouragement, had thrown herself into it. She had her silk stockings rolled down, the beaded garters showing and her kneecaps rouged like the rest of the vigorous flappers whirling around on the dance floor just a few steps beyond them. All those rouged kneecaps, that formerly forbidden flesh, made his knees go soft enough to be stirred. He had always liked the soft underside of a woman’s knee and breasts. So it had come as a complete surprise to him that he found these androgynous tubular dresses, with the flatteners worn underneath so appealing. With their short hair and squashed chests, many of the young girls looked like young men in dresses and there was something disturbing about that, more so because it was so damn arousing.

“You’ll make me want to go upstairs to bed but it’s play time. I want to dance like dandelion fluff on the wind,” Dru said, pushing her hand against the white silk shirt he wore under his grey wool suit jacket. Swirls of blue to highlight her dress patterned the silk.

“And you shall dance. I’ve messed your lipstick a bit,” he said. “Do I have any on me?”

She giggled. “Lips like blood.”

He rolled his eyes and let her lead him to a shadowy part of the dance hall. She took out a handkerchief from her tiny beaded purse and wiped his mouth. He took her Elizabeth Arden lipstick and reapplied it. It had taken a lot of convincing originally to get Dru to wear makeup. Part of her puritanical upbringing still clung to the hollowed out spaces left behind when her soul took flight. But his assurances that it would make her even more beautiful, more lovely than her beloved stars, made her relent. So it fell to him to learn how to apply makeup since she couldn’t see herself in a mirror. He thought he had gotten good at it. He rather not remember how many times he had accidentally jabbed Dru in the eye learning to apply kohl. 

Once she was fixed and she had straightened his tie and hat they went back out on the dance floor and launched into the Charleston, following the syncopated 4/4 time of the ragtime music. Dru’s shoes with their ankle straps had been made just for dancing like this. Otherwise the flappers would be flinging shoes across the room as they made their little outward kicks with their heels. The up and down bird-like movements they made with their knees and their flapping arms is what lent them the nickname in the first place. 

The music changed and Spike took great joy in watching Dru from his space along the wall with the rest of the men while the women danced the Black Bottom. The wild dance, as usual, was an unspoken challenge for the girls and two blondes and a red head went up against Dru. Their beaded dresses flashed like fire under the lights as they stamped their heels on the offbeats. Spike, like most men watching, didn’t care who ‘won.’ They were just enjoying watching the women slap their asses, grind and gyrate as they hopped back and forth. Dru’s pearl necklace swung wildly from her neck as her dress whirled around her. The girls who didn’t have their stockings rolled down flashed their garters as they danced. 

If Dru wanted to, Spike knew she could probably drain a half dozen men in a heartbeat from their fully cocked Johnsons pointing her way, his included.

They were doing the Lindy-Hop to the pulsing rhythmic eight-count beat when someone grabbed Spike and whirled him away from Dru, or at least tried to. He didn’t have the strength to move the wiry little vampire. Spike saw the weak-chinned face that was beginning to really irritate him. Emily clung to Hetherington’s arm, looking as if she were afraid the women around her were infectious, and she’d die if someone breached the shell of celibacy and overhearing piety she carried around her.

“You don’t want to be putting your hands on me, you toff,” Spike grumbled, feeling Dru tensing next to him. He pulled her close. He couldn’t let her lose her temper and lose them both the money and their new childe. They had to suffer Emily and Alester for one more night.

“What did my sister find so attractive about you two? You’re vile and disgusting and sinful. My sister’s death hasn’t caused a single misstep for you and your non-stop partying.” Her unpainted face purple and splotched with rage, Emily slapped Drusilla hard.

Dru raised a perfectly manicured hand but Spike caught it before she used those nails to cut through Emily’s pudgy neck. “Your woman has more bollocks than you do, Hetherington.” Spike laughed.

“She’s not my woman, you...you,” Hetherington babbled, but Spike noticed he didn’t look angry. He was pale, fear shining in his watery eyes. “We’ll prove you killed Ann.”

Spike’s lips hooked up in a wicked smile. He realized he had it right. He leaned closer and took a sniff of the man. Under his sickly sweet cologne was a whiff of Emily. “I’m getting tired of saying this. I was at the bandstand. A dozen people saw Drusilla and me there. We were Ann’s friends. Why would we kill her?” Spike tried to keep his voice calm.

“To get her money,” Hetherington replied. Alester shook a small fist at Spike.

“Bloody hell.”

Hetherington’s pale face went livid. “Don’t profane in front of the women.”

Spike sucked in a deep breath, a leftover human way of calming himself. He could barely refrain from tearing this wanker apart. He kept up a mental mantra, _money and Ann rising._ “You are as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hetherington. We aren’t in Ann’s will. With Ann dead, we not only lost a good friend but our place here once the money runs out at the end of the month. We had no reason to want her dead,” Spike said, fighting to remain rational. _Money and Ann rising._

“Well, maybe you fought and killed her by accident. I know you’re behind this,” Emily shrilled.

“Tell me how, you stupid bint. All three of use went to the bandstand together. Ann forgot her Cartier brooch back in the room, the one you gave her, Hetherington. She wanted to show it off. She went back for it, leaving Drusilla and myself at the bandstand. We were there when the Pinkertons came to find us and tell us Ann had been killed.” Spike took Dru’s arm. “Let’s find another place to dance, Dru, a place where the air’s better.”

Emily grabbed Dru, her fingers digging in. This time Dru slapped her hard enough to knock her down. Her long skirt flipped up revealing her legs sheathed in black wool stockings. Several dancers scattered and the music missed a beat.

“How dare you?” Hetherington took a step toward Dru but Spike interposed himself.

“Uh-uh, this is between the ladies,” Spike said. “And it ends now or so help me you’ll be in for it.”

Hetherington helped Emily up. She grabbed a glass of tea from a passing waitress’ tray and flung it at Dru, most of it missing.

“What is going on here?”

Spike turned and found himself staring into a tall man’s bewhiskered face. He was another person Spike was tired of seeing; the Pinkerton who was first in Ann’s room after her murder. “Mr. Bushnell, these two are harassing me and my wife,” Spike said, hoping he could actually pull off being as hoity-toity as the rest of the Oriental’s clientele.

Bushnell cocked an eyebrow at that as if he knew Spike and Dru wouldn’t know a marriage if it jumped up and attacked them. Spike disagreed. He and Dru were better than most of the old marrieds. Oh, there were little side ventures to break up the routine but for the most part it was just him and the woman he loved more than life. He enjoyed having Dru all to himself especially now that Angelus had gone insane or whatever his problem was because of the whole soul business.

“These two are responsible for killing my sister. I don’t know why you didn’t tell the police that, Mr. Bushnell. You Pinkertons are supposed to be good. Well, you didn’t keep my sister safe, and you can’t see the killers when they’re standing in front of you. Take them to the police.” Emily stamped her foot at him.

“Don’t tell me my job, ma’am, and I am going to have to ask you and Mr. Hetherington to leave. I can’t have you causing a scene,” he said placidly.

“My dear man, do you know who we are?” Hetherington asked.

“Yes, I do, sir but you’re making a public disturbance. You are not guests here, and you should be grateful I’m not summoning the police to deal with this. That goes for all of you,” Bushnell said. “So I’m asking you two to leave the dance hall as well. Go back to your rooms. Go to the park. What you won’t be doing is staying here further disturbing the guests.” He wagged a finger at Spike as if not at all worried he might lose his job if he upset the wealthy guests of the hotel.

“She hurt me,” Dru said, leaning against Spike stabbing a finger at Emily. Spike hushed her.

“That’s all you’re going to do? Send them out to have more fun?” Emily demanded to know.

Bushnell played with an end of his moustache. “I do have more questions for them but it can wait until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh no it can’t. We’re leaving the dance hall right now. Ask now or wait until tomorrow night. We’re not much for company in the middle of the day,” Spike said.

“Fine. Just let me escort Miss di Gobeo and Mr. Hetherington out,” Bushnell said.

“That won’t be necessary.” Hetherington sniffed, taking Emily’s arm.

Spike waited for them to leave before leading Dru out. Bushnell followed them.

“What do you want, Mr. Bushnell? Are you going to be like that spoiled cow and ask me how I murdered Ann when I was nowhere near her room?” Spike asked, barely able to keep it below a roar. He wasn’t a patient man and tonight had been too big a strain. All he wanted was to be left alone until Ann rose.

Bushnell kept his calm. “No. You were clearly where you said you were. But it’s harder to find people who saw your wife there, Mr. Harker.”

Spike almost grinned. He had chosen that name from Stoker’s book just for giggles but the thought of Dru being in trouble sobered him. Not that this man could pose a real threat. He had no idea things like vampires were real. They could kill him where he stood before he ever knew what was happening. He didn’t want to have to flee before Ann woke up. “And where do you think Drusilla went, Bushnell? Up to Ann’s room to cut her throat? What for? She has nothing to gain from Ann’s death.”

Dru looked at Spike, worry in her blue eyes. He patted her hand, and she kept quiet.

“If she did it, I doubt it was premeditated. But I have noticed she seems to be a bit...touched.”

“Watch it. This is the woman I love, and there’s nothing wrong with her,” Spike said, realizing he shouldn’t have. He knew Dru was obviously insane. It was what he loved about her but he hated people saying it. It hurt her feelings. He squeezed her hand gently.

“I think we both know better. I really think I should talk to her alone,” Bushnell said, his dark eyes raking over Dru. 

She shrank back against Spike, who noticed Bushnell wasn’t looking at her like a suspect. His eyes stayed too long on her flattened chest, on the curve of her legs and the sweep of her neck. Spike knew when a man was interested in a woman and Bushnell had his eye on Dru.

“I don’t think so. We’re guests here. We had nothing to do with our friend’s death. And you’re not the police. If you had any evidence Drusilla did anything wrong, you would have turned it over already so leave us alone to mourn our friend,” Spike said, thinking once again, _money and Ann rising._

Bushnell’s brow knitted. “It doesn’t look like you’re in mourning.”

“Ann would have appreciated our style of mourning. If you knew anything about her, you’d know that. Come on, Dru, let’s get you upstairs and get you cleaned up. And I’m making damn sure the hotel sends the cleaning bill for this dress to Miss di Gobeo,” Spike said.

“I’m sure to have more questions for you, Mr. Harker, and for your wife,” Bushnell called after them as Spike started for the stairs.

“And I’ll have answers.”

“That awful woman ruined all our fun.” Dru pouted as they climbed the stairs.

“I know, ducks.” He leaned in close and added in a whisper, “But we can’t kill her yet, not until Ann rises.”

 

Dru’s pout intensified. “Ann will want to kill her herself, and there won’t be any fun for me.”

“I’ll let you kill Hetherington,” he said, and she brightened.

Once back in their suite, Dru started a bath in a sunken tub that looked more like a Roman pool. Spike helped her out of her tea-stained dress. He held her close, his hands tucked against the stiff flattener she wore. He knew she wanted free of the stupid thing — he was so glad he wasn’t female — so he got it off of her while steaming water bubbled into the tub. The scent of lavender filled the air. Dru went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed to try and get off her shoes. Spike knelt down and unfastened them for her. He planted a kiss on each instep. As Dru giggled, he sucked on her toes, the silk stockings catching on his teeth. Knowing she’d never forgive him if he laddered the expensive things, Spike reached up and slowly rolled them down, his tongue following the silk as it moved down her leg.

Dru’s back arched as he toyed with those stockings lifting her bare hips in a way that sent fire through him. But she slipped out of his grip and sashayed off to the bathroom. She paused at the door to throw a coquettish look his way, and then went inside. Spike knew she wanted to play slow and long. He took off his jacket and draped it over the chair. Shoes, pants, shirt all came off as he listened to Dru splashing in the tub. He nearly forgot his hat. He put it on the dresser as he went back into the bathroom.

His dark beauty had sunk to her neck in the scented suds. He sat on the edge of the tub, slipping a hand under the water. Her nipples were soft as rose petals as he teased them, one then the other. Dru moaned a bit, reaching up with a sudsy hand to caress his cheek. She twisted in the tub so she had better access to him. Her painted lips engulfed his stiffening member. His eyes fluttered shut as she took him into the cool reaches of her mouth. It was such a difference from the warm wetness Ann had treated him to, with Dru watching. Maybe Angelus had taught her that two women and one man was acceptable. If so, he’d have to thank him.

Dru sat back, leaving crimson streaks of lipstick along the length of his cock. Spike eased into the tub her legs parting for him. Their lips met as he explored under the water again. His fingers gently massaged her clitoris until she was bucking against him.

Dru pushed him away and he looked at her curiously. She occasionally liked to take the lead, and tonight was obviously one of those nights. She pushed him back under the water and climbed on top. Having a tub large enough for at least four people to lie down in had its advantages. Spike looked up at her through water that was rapidly becoming sud-less. Dru’s face broke the water as she came down to kiss him again.

She reached back to stroke him as they continued their underwater kiss. Finally she broke it, sitting up and moved back so she could slip him inside her. Dru held him under as they made love. It was an interesting new game. Seeing her through the refracting water made it seem otherworldly. This was a benefit to being undead, no need to breathe, couldn’t drown, could try out things mortals couldn’t. 

Dru’s movements were languid and wonderful. She was in no hurry to bring him to climax, and he could have a very long fuse. Finally, she picked up the pace, urging them both forward. She held him under until both of their orgasms played out. When she let him up, she laughed, getting out of the tub. They dried each other off and Spike carried her back to their bed.

“Night’s still young,” he said, fluffing Dru’s short wet hair.

“Want to go out and play some more?” Dru’s blue eyes were bright.

“I think I know where Hetherington and that cow are,” he replied.

Dru scowled. “Don’t like her. Don’t want to play with her.”

“They’re together, pet. And if I can prove that, I bet Bushnell would have himself a nice new suspect and that’ll leave us free to get things ready for Ann’s rebirth.” Spike could care less about the ritual. He knew Ann would rise one way or the other but it was important to Dru. 

“Show me, my star.”


	3. Stirring the Pot

Chapter Three – Stirring the Pot

_She’s my Coney Island Baby  
She’s my Coney Island Girl_

_She’s a princess in a red dress  
She’s the moon in the mist to me_

_She’s my Coney Island Baby_  
She’s my Coney Island Girl   
**Coney Island Baby –Tom Waits**

 

Spike and Dru had changed into trousers and sweaters, Dru, looking enticingly androgynous in hers. If he didn’t want to complicate Emily and Alester’s lives, he’d think of a new game he and Dru could play with her dressed like this.

They went to the hotel Emily had booked into when her sister died. Alester should have been back in the city but Spike was betting on him being in that room. He knew what his nose had told him. He had no doubt that the holier-than-thou Emily was busy making the beast with two backs with Alester. The images made him shudder.

“Locked.” Dru gently turned the knob to their door. Her talents with mesmerization had loosened the concierge’s tongue as to room assignment.

“Didn’t expect otherwise. This won’t take long.” Spike had packed along some things he thought he might need like a set of lock picks. He would have brought that loathsome Pinkerton along if he thought the man would come. Then again he suspected he and Dru had been followed.

Spike got the lock opened easily. The door swung inward soundlessly. Other sounds greeted their vampiric ears. Spike winced, hearing the shrill moans and panting grunts. Dru smothered a giggle. At least she could find this funny. Spike could picture this coupling, and it was bad enough. He didn’t want to have to witness it. Well, he’d be spared the view of Emily’s legs up over Alester’s scrawny shoulders since they couldn’t actually enter the suite without an invite.

“Have a listen to that, Drusilla,” Spike called loudly enough to be heard down the hall. “We came here to talk to Miss di Gobeo, to find out who killed her sister since it sure as hell wasn’t me, and I think I know who’d be a much better suspect. A sister who was letting Ann’s fiancé get a leg over and the fiancé who just wants the di Gobeo wealth.”

“The police will sing and dance when they hear the news. They’ll invite us to tea,” Dru said, clapping her hands as the occupants of the room started thrashing and screaming.

“Let’s go, Dru. It’s time to share this.”

“No!” Hetherington’s voice cut through the hotel suite. He raced out of the bedroom, wrapping a robe around him. “You can’t say anything.”

“Thank God you found a robe. I wasn’t ready for a naked you,” Spike said, waving a hand at the man.

“Why can’t we say anything? We should scream it to the sky and let it rain down on is, soaking into the world’s bones. You said so many cruel things about us,” Dru said, stabbing a finger at him.

“You’ll ruin us,” Hetherington snarled as Emily hustled out of the bedroom, her silk nightgown clinging to her.

“You tried to do the same to us,” Spike said.

“But we didn’t murder my sister!” Emily whined.

“Neither did I,” Spike said.

“There you two are. My man said he saw you heading this way,” Bushnell said, heading down the hallway. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“You don’t sleep either,” Dru said, reaching for him. Spike pulled her away. He didn’t want her touching him. Granted, he was sure she was going to do something nasty to Bushnell but with the way the Pinkerton had looked at Dru at the dance still burned in his memory.

“Speaking of not sleeping, have a look.” Spike shoved a foot in the door to keep Hetherington from slamming it shut.

Bushnell’s bewhiskered face darkened. “I see there’ll be a lot of questions that need answering. I’ll be speaking with the sheriff. You may want to be available for the police tomorrow, Mr. Hetherington, Miss di Gobeo.”

Spike hesitated, wondering what Bushnell might do next. He couldn’t really force him and Dru to leave since this wasn’t his hotel. Spike wasn’t even sure if this man could actually follow them outside of the Oriental like he had. Bushnell merely stared as if he could hope he could actually intimidate Spike into leaving. Spike took Dru’s hand, waved at the illicit lovers and headed off.

Bushnell followed them for a while but they finally seemed to pass where he was comfortable straying past. He turned and seemed to head back to the Oriental. Dru started for the silent empty beach. Spike let her lead.

“That made my insides sing.” She giggled. “What now? I think they’d like to play with leeches.”

“We’ll save those for later, love. I think we’ve done enough for tonight. This is time for us. And you need to think about Ann’s rising,” Spike said, and Dru’s blue eyes lit up. He knew she had nearly forgotten that. She was a classicist. She liked the ceremony and the rituals, the flowers, the open starry skies. Spike had to wonder where the ideas about the rebirth came from. Maybe it had to do with old burial practices. Spike knew it was all ridiculous twaddle. A vampire needed nothing special to rise beyond that first drink of his sire’s blood. But if it made Dru happy, he was all for that. Dru could never be too happy if he were to be asked.

“I’ll have the flowers sent to our room for tomorrow night. At dusk you can steal Ann’s body. We shall take her to the beach, and she can rise and play in the surf and party and eat her sister,” Dru said.

“There’s enough of her for all three of us to feast on.” Spike snorted. “But I like the idea of the beach. Shall we find a place to do this?”

“My bright wicked boy knows what I want.” Dru took off her shoes, tied the laces and put them over her shoulder. She giggled burying her feet in the cooling sand. “It tickles my toes. It’s like dancing on feathers.”

“Great, Dru.”

She grabbed him. “Take off your shoes and dance my love.”

“Dru, let’s focus here and find a place for Ann.”

“Need to fly and play.” She rubbed against him.

Smiling, Spike forgot about Ann and took off his shoes. There was a subtle thrill to feeling the cool sand squishing over his toes. Once, as a mortal he had gone to Blackpool to play in the sand and the surf, not to mention to take in the shows. His mother had found out and had screamed at him for weeks about how embarrassing it was to have a son who couldn’t control his baser urges. He never did understand what was so damn base about wanting to see the shows at Blackpool. He hadn’t had the courage to take in one of the more bawdy acts. He had been such a prig.

Dru linked hands with Spike, swinging them as they walked on the beach. Spike sighed contentedly. They had a relationship that many would kill for, he had no doubt. Angelus and Darla never had anything like it. He cared for Dru in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain. There was no end to the tenderness they shared, like simply walking down the beach. He bet Angelus and Darla had never done that. Angelus didn’t deserve to have a childe as special as Dru.

A peacefulness like he rarely felt filled him as they walked along the beach. Stars like swirling gems on velvet sprawled overhead. The moon hung full and ripe in the sky. It was the kind of moon that Dru liked to talk to and believed talked back to her. Who was he to say it didn’t? It made him feel poetic. Silvery moonlight shimmered on the gently pounding surf. The smell of salt tickled his nose and Dru’s child-like joy in their walk tickled the open spaces his soul used to fill.

The lights from the amusement park had faded in the distance, leaving the night dark and natural. Seeing something she liked ahead, Dru sprinted, pulling him along. He could smell something sweet, flowers escaped from the houses not far away.

“Here! This is perfect,” Dru proclaimed, touching the wild flowers one after the other.

“Lovely.” Spike was relieved she had picked a place finally. Any further up the beach, and he was likely to lose his peaceful state of mind. He didn’t feel like lugging Ann’s body for miles. 

“We’ll have so much fun. We’ll be like cats in a field of mice.” Dru plucked a few flowers and tucked them behind her ear.

“Ann will be fun,” Spike agreed, thinking of things entirely different than Dru.

“Like candy floss at a carnival,” Dru said, spinning circles around him.

“Ummm, candy floss.” Spike nibbled her beck. “You’re even sweeter than that.”

Dru giggled. “The sweetness of your words, like taffy. I can pull them into all sorts of shapes.”

“Whatever shape you want to pull it into, those words still say ‘I love you.’“ Spike licked her cheek.

Dru purred. “Flirtatious little creature. My sweet bad boy.” Dru kissed him and took off for the surf. 

Spike chased her. They played up and down the beach. Darting off and on the lightly kissed damp sand. 

“Play in the water, love,” Dru said, pulling off her sweater. 

“Great idea.”

They both lost all their clothing. Dru splashed into the water, her pale body like a moonbeam cutting the surf. Spike dashed after her. Dru slapped and tickled him as they played. He grabbed her, whirling her around. He planted her tight little ass on the wet sand. Dru growled at him, her face going demonic. He kissed each bump on her forehead as her hands toyed with his testicles.

Spike’s lips traveled down her body as he laid her back in the sand. The waves tickled up over their feet. Dru giggled, kicking at the foam riding the surf. Spike caught one leg, kissing up the inside of her thigh. Dru arched her hips bringing her soft folds to his lips. The tip of his tongue flicked across her clitoris until she moaned loudly. Using his talented tongue to part her like a rose, he tasted her as it pushed in and out of the cool damp treasure beneath it. Dru’s thighs squeezed him rhythmically.

His own erection felt strange, pushing into the wet sand. Continuing to work with his tongue he reached up and pinched her clit. Dru shrieked as it sent her over the edge. Her climax flooded his mouth. Laughing Spike rested his head against her naval, rubbing her with his thumb, taking her straight into another orgasm. Dru wriggled under him, urging him up onto his hands over her. She didn’t shout out instructions to him. She didn’t need to. He knew what she needed as her fingers brushed him off, taking away the light coating of sand that had coated his penis. The roughness of it made him groan deep in his throat.

He buried himself in her. The tide was coming in, the cool water tugging at them. He tried to move with the rhythm of the ocean to become one with it. Dru laughed and wriggled every time the water sucked out the sand with it, tickling under her. She locked her ankles over his back, grinding him deeper into her. The water began licking along his back and buttocks. He struggled not to laugh and totally lose the moment. His climax hit only seconds before a wave crashed completely over them and nearly sucked them out to sea. He hauled Dru higher out of the waves, laughing. She giggled so hard he had to hold her up. 

“You fall down now and you’ll look like a sugar cookie,” he warned.

She nipped at him. “Then you’ll eat me all up.”

“I don’t need that to make me want to eat you.” He looked back over the waves. They were getting closer. “We’d better dress before our clothes head out to sea. I don’t fancy trying to get back into the hotel naked.”

Dru just laughed harder. They pulled on their clothing and it clung to their wet bodies. It was an uncomfortable walk back to the Oriental but satisfying at the same time.


	4. If Wishes Were Horses

Chapter Four – If Wishes Were Horses  
 _We all fall for some girl that dresses neat,_  
some girl that's got big feet,   
we meet her on the street.   
Then we'll join the   
army of married boobs to the altar  
 **Goodbye My Coney Island Baby – Les Applegate**

 

Emily puffed mightily, like an upset horse. She poked at the ice in her glass as she sat in the hotel lounge. She and Alester had spent the morning being questioned overly long by the police about the death of her sister. She realized that they were very likely to think she had done it. “I hate them,” she grumbled never thinking that if she and Alester had refrained at least until her sister was buried they wouldn’t be in this mess.

“I’m going for a walk,” Alester said. “Alone.”

Emily watched him scuttle off. She went back to stabbing the ice in her Coke. “I will pay him back if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Him?”

Emily glanced over at the woman who spoke to her. She was about the same age as Emily, probably judging from her blue eyes and blond hair, was either German or Swiss. Her tall body was clothed in a conservative manner that Emily approved of. “Do I know you?”

“Now you do. I’m Heidi. This is my first time in Coney Island. How about you?” Heidi smiled affably.

“Hardly. We’ve stayed at Brighton Beach for years. It makes a nice break from our place in the city,” Emily said haughtily.

“Oh, I’ve never been to Manhattan. I live upstate in Beacon. That’s a lovely dress you have on,” Heidi said.

Emily gave her a look that said, ‘poor pitiful country rube.’ “Thanks.”

“Having troubles with men?” Heidi nodded in the direction Alester had gone.

Emily sighed. She needed to talk to someone, and sometimes dumping it all on a stranger was easier. She’d never have to see this Heidi again, which was better than having to confess to a friend and having to live with the pitying looks and hushed whispers. “No, not Alester. He’s quite...never mind. I mean William Harker,” Emily said. “He’s this awful man, calls himself Spike. He murdered my sister but he has the police thinking Alester and I were behind it, rather than him and his floozy. He needs to be punished.”

Heidi wore a sympathetic look. “I agree. What do you think should be done?”

“The law’s too good for him. He should contract a painful deadly disease,” Emily said with venom.

“Done.” Heidi glanced around a frown, pinching up her round face. “Um, who is he again?”

“Why do you care?” Emily asked. “He’s not here, if that’s what you’re looking for. He’s probably still asleep. He and that tramp of his stay out all night. I doubt they wake up before five.”

“I see. Are they here in this hotel?”

Emily wagged her head, nearly undoing the tight bun she wore her dark hair in. Heidi asked too many questions. She hoped she hadn’t just unburdened herself to one of those tiresome women who thought they could be reporters instead of being happy with doing women-things like getting married. “No, my sister put them up in the Oriental Hotel as if they were worth the expense. She rented them a suite.”

“I see. It’ll all work out,” Heidi said.

Emily’s face puckered as her usual ill-humor reappeared. “How can it? No matter what happens to him, my sister will still be dead.”

“Sounds like you didn’t much approve of her and now you’re in line for her money,” Heidi said unkindly.

Emily just stared, not so much that it was an awful thing to say as it was things she had thought of herself. She didn’t miss Ann. She feared that Spike was lying, and that he was in Ann’s will and that was why Ann had died. She didn’t want to lose a dime of family money.

Heidi just smiled and walked off. She called over her shoulder, “It’ll get better.”

Heidi met with someone outside the door. She smiled at the trim woman. “How’d I do, Anyanka?”

The other vengeance demon shrugged. “Not bad for a first time but you should have had a better idea who your target is.”

“William Harker is at the Oriental Hotel,” Heidi protested.

Anyanka sighed. “I just wished she asked for something better than a deadly disease. That is so deadly dull.”

Both vengeance demons headed for the Oriental hotel. It only took a few moments to get the location of the Harker’s suite from the clerk. There was a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door when they got there. Once Heidi learned to handle her new powers there would be no need to get close to a victim but in her centuries of training others of her kind, Anyanka found proximity helped fledgling vengeance demons to work their magic.

“It’ll be locked. Do I need to see him to make this work?” Heidi fretted.

“No. We didn’t even need to come here.” Anyanka said. “Feel the life behind that door and afflict it.”

Heidi concentrated. “I don’t feel anything...there’s something there but it’s not life.”

Anyanka stretched out with her magic. “Vampires.”

Heidi slumped against the wall. “What am I supposed to do with that? 

“Nothing changes. Fulfill that wish,” Anyanka instructed, wondering how this woman had ever been selected for demonhood.

“I can’t kill what’s already dead.”

Anyanka lost her human face for a moment as her temper flared. “Vampires can be hurt. They can die. You just have to use your imagination. There’s a poison that makes them sicken and die. It’s called Killer of the Dead.”

“Killer of the dead.” Heidi fiddled with her amulet. “Done.”

“Good. Let’s find something to do here and come back in a little while and check on how you did. Killer of the Dead takes time to work,” Anyanka said.

“I don’t like this. I thought it would be easier...that I wouldn’t have to know so much,” Heidi said with a petulant look on her face.

“Each wish is different. Some are quite exciting,” Anyanka replied.

“Cursing other demons...it just seems wrong,” Heidi said.

“It is dicey. But as far as I’m concerned vampires are low level demons at best, not of any great concern.” Anyanka headed away from the suite with Heidi trailing after her unhappily.

X X X

 

Spike woke up to Dru’s screaming. He clamped a hand over her mouth, scooping her closer with the other arm. “Shhh, baby, what’s wrong?” He tried to sound comforting even though he felt oddly hung over and wasted.

Dru twisted her hands in the bedding, her body stiff against him. “Terrible magic. It floods us. It stinks of the grave, our graves. Not the pleasant rose-like scent of the grave. It’s putrefaction, dust, horror. Oh, my poor Spike.”

Spike felt unaccountably fearful for the first time in a long time. Terror radiated from Dru’s blue eyes. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her so afraid. “What else are you seeing?”

“That horrible woman.” Dru clawed at her eyes until Spike pulled her hands away. “Oh, my Spike, she’s killed you.”

“I don’t understand, Dru.” Spike stroked her hair. “How could Emily possibly kill me? She doesn’t know what I am. What are the chances she could possibly destroy me?”

“It’s already done,” Dru wailed, capturing his thin face between her cold hands. She fluttered kisses over his face.

“Dru, sweetie, relax. I’m fine,” Spike said, even though he didn’t really feel fine. The hung over feeling was worsening. Maybe it was nerves thanks to Dru’s hysteria. There was no way he was dying. Spike got up and nearly dropped to his knees. That sudden weakness shocked him.

“Spike!” Dru keened, reaching for him.

“I’m okay, pet, never bloody better,” he lied. “I just need to wake up.”

Spike managed to drag himself into the bathroom, hearing Dru whimpering piteously behind him. How could he possibly be dying? Dru had to have gotten the short end of the psychic stick this time out. He locked the door and splashed water on his face. The room spun and he captured the bowl of the sink before he fell. He eased himself to the floor so not to alert Dru.

He felt awful. He could hear Dru at the bathroom door, and he knew she’d break through it momentarily if he didn’t do something. But Spike realized her vision was right. He felt like he was dying again; only it was worse this time. Incredible pain began spreading through him. It had to be a spell but how had it happened? Emily was hopelessly mundane and probably too stupid to learn spell casting.

“Spike?”

“I’ll be out in a minute, poodle. Go back to bed,” he said, trying not to worry her. 

Before Dru could argue, as he knew she would, a knock sounded on the room door. Spike heard a muffled voice.

“Harker, open up. It’s Bushnell.”

“Spike?” Dru asked.

 

“Do as he says, Dru. I’ll be there in a minute,” Spike said but he doubted he could even move much less get up. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Dru alone with the Pinkerton but she was a big girl, a predator long before he came along.

X X X

Dru opened the door not bothering with the formality of putting a robe on over her ruby silk nightgown. She knew she should but she also knew when a man was interested in a woman. Bushnell was interested in her and distracting him was a good idea. It would make it easier to kill him if she needed to. She hoped it would be necessary.

Bushnell strode in, looking ready to talk business but he hesitated staring at Dru. He watched her move, eyeing her lithe form and the way the bright silk clung to her curves. Dru knew she had his attention but suddenly wondered if Bushnell’s attention was something she wanted.

Bushnell cleared his throat, obviously trying to regain his composure. “Where is your husband, Mrs. Harker?”

“Out,” Dru said, hoping she could get rid of Bushnell. She didn’t believe Spike. He was dying. She knew it.

“That’s probably for the best. I have questions for you, Mrs. Harker.” Bushnell shut the door behind him.

Dru gave him a curious look. She knew it wasn’t proper for him to talk to her in the suite alone but she sat on the couch and looked at him expectantly. She wondered if it was wiser to just eat him now and save herself a lot of aggravation.

“Funny thing, Mrs. Harker, while you were seen with Miss di Gobeo at the bandstand before she returned upstairs for her brooch, I am having trouble finding witnesses who saw you afterwards. Are you sure that you remained behind with your husband? Maybe you went back with Miss di Gobeo.” Bushnell’s voice went soft and silky as his body relaxed. His dark eyes never left Dru’s chest. “Maybe you saw something. Did you see the killer and are afraid to say? I can protect you.” He reached for her.

Dru flinched away. “I stayed with my husband.”

Bushnell stiffened again, knowing rejection when slapped with it. “Or perhaps you followed Miss di Gobeo and killed her.”

“No.” Dru stared up at him, getting ready to propel herself back off the couch.

“It’s all right. I can protect you.” Bushnell stepped closer. “If you’re nice to me, if you compensate me for it.”

“Go away.” Dru knew she was supposed to look frightened, most women would be, but all she felt was angry.

Bushnell grabbed Dru up off the couch, his hand slipping between her legs. “You’ll do it and be grateful, you crazy bitch. Or I’ll make it seem you did murder Miss di Gobeo.”

“You’re right.” Dru said, her face went demonic. “I killed her.”

Bushnell almost got a scream out before Dru buried her fangs in his neck. When he was dead, she dragged him towards the bathroom.

X X X

Spike had hauled himself up onto the toilet, hearing the conversation through the door. His Dru needed him. Oh, he knew she could kill this pig easily but she shouldn’t have to endure the licentious looks he knew this man had to be giving her. Spike sweated profusely. He had a fever. He was actually hot. It was unique feeling but not something he could enjoy and ponder over. He could feel whatever it was working through him. He couldn’t believe it. He was actually dying but that didn’t matter. He needed to help Dru.

Spike managed to stagger to the door and opened it. Dru was on the other side lugging Bushnell’s body into the bathroom. She flung the corpse into the tub and grabbed Spike. She swept him up and cradled him like a child. Kicking the door closed behind her, she carried him to the bed. Spike felt her tears splashing down like ice on his burning flesh. She laid him on the soft mattress, her hands stroking his honey gold hair.

“It’s setting in,” Dru said, “The Killer of the Dead.”

“How is that possible, Dru? It...” Spike faltered, his tongue felt thick and too long for his mouth. “It’s poison. How did it get in my system? Emily doesn’t...know.”

“I don’t know, love. The stars are silent. They won’t tell me,” She moaned. “I don’t know the cure. I...” Dru’s head snapped up, staring past the door into the living room. She pressed her lips to Spike’s fevered forehead. “Someone’s coming. Shhh.”

Spike didn’t worry about it. He felt consciousness slipping away. He struggled to keep his grasp on reality. Dru edged toward the door, her body tensed for a fight.

 

X X X

 

“Think he’s dead yet?” Heidi asked as Anyanka magicked the door open.

“The Killer of the Dead is slow acting. He’s probably still alive but suffering which is exactly what your girl asked for.” Anyanka swept her blonde hair back as she opened the door and waved Heidi into the suite’s living room. 

Heidi prowled around it then headed for the bedroom and was yanked inside. Puzzled, Anyanka investigated. Dru slammed the bedroom door shut, her claws still embedded in Heidi’s neck. 

“Naughty, naughty, look what I caught, Spike.” Dru tightened her grip with one hand and jerked Heidi’s amulet off her neck.

Spike managed to get up on one elbow, peering at the two women, his eyes not quite able to focus. His silence cued in Dru that he wasn’t quite connecting it.

“Vengeance demons.” She waved the amulet. 

Anyanka took a step toward Dru who sank her claws deeper into Heidi’s neck. Heidi whimpered.

“I don’t have to touch you to hurt you, you know,” Anyanka said tiredly. She was gravely disappointed in both herself and Heidi. They shouldn’t have been so easily captured. Like most vengeance demons of her ilk, Anyanka didn’t like hurting women but she would.

“Why...do...this?” Spike grated out.

“It’s what...” Heidi broke off choking. She pulled at Dru’s fingers. Dru loosened enough to let her talk. “We do. Emily asked for vengeance, to punish you with a painful fatal diseased for killing her sister.”

Spike groaned loudly, flopping back on the bed.

“But Spike didn’t kill her sister. I was the one who put out the light so she could be born into darkness,” Dru said.

Anyanka’s feathery brow wrinkled. “You?”

“Yeah, her,” Spike said, making an obscene gesture at the demon.

“I don’t like this. I didn’t like afflicting a fellow demon, and now he didn’t do it. I don’t want to hurt another woman,” Heidi babbled, giving the more experienced demon an imploring look.

Anyanka rubbed her face. “Heidi...it doesn’t change guilty or not, a wish is a wish.”

“Does change,” Dru said, her hand convulsing on the amulet. “It changes or this is dust.”

Heidi’s eyes went wide. She reached for Anyanka.

“Don’t look at me,” Anyanka snarled. This demon D’Hoffryn had saddled her with to train was a bad choice if she were to be asked. “This is your mess. I’m just here to guide you. I will tell you if she destroys that amulet the spell ends and so does your demonhood. Do what you have to.”

“I’ll lift the spell. He’ll live if you give me back my amulet,” Heidi said, still trying to free herself from Dru.

“Do it,” Dru said, opening her fingers.

“Done,” Heidi said gratefully.

“Spike?” Dru asked.

“I...I’m feeling better,” Spike said, running a hand through his blond curls. “Good enough to pull the head off some vengeance blighters.”

“Hush, Spike,” Dru said, and then handed over the amulet.

“Did I do all right?” Heidi asked, putting on her amulet.

“You could have destroyed both of them with a thought,” Anyanka said, disgust dripping from her words. “But your way worked. I suppose.”

“Any chance of you two going the hell away?” Spike growled.

Anyanka shrugged. “Come on, Heidi. Let’s see if you do any better next time out.”

Anyanka opened the front door startling a laden florist who was just about to knock. 

“Mrs. Harker?” he asked, dubiously. 

“Not me,” Anyanka said, pushing past him.

“Me,” Dru said brightly and signed for them. The florist escaped quickly.

“For the birth?” Anyanka asked as Heidi sidled past Dru.

Dru nodded happily and shut the door in their faces. “Look at all the lovely flowers! It will be so beautiful. I can’t wait. The stars shall sing.” Dru bounced on the bed, kissing Spike. “And I have my boy, back. Strong and whole and meaner than ever.”

“You know it, pet,” Spike said, even though he still felt weak as the spell’s effects wore off.

“We have to prepare Ann for tonight.”

“It’s still daylight, love and we’ll have to sneak Bushnell’s body out of here. I say we put him in Ann’s coffin. They’ll find it but by then all three of us will be out of here,” Spike said.

Dru snuggled up. “Not before I eat that terrible terrible woman for cursing you.”

“You can do to her every vile thing you can think of,” Spike promised, shutting his eyes. He’d need to recover his strength for tonight.


	5. Rebirth

Chapter Five - Rebirth  
_Goodbye my Coney Island baby,_  
farewell my one true love, (true love) (my honey)  
I'm gonna go away and leave you  
never to see you any (never gonna see you any)  
**Goodbye My Coney Island Baby – Les Applegate**

Spike stumbled up the beach, Ann’s lifeless body over his shoulder. It was hard to make headway in the sand. Dru had run ahead with her load of flowers and candles. His lover was practically giddy. It looked so cute on her.

“Hurry, Spike. All is ready. The stars have started their dance. Salt rides the air like blood,” Dru called merrily.

It was how the ocean always smelled to Spike. Fish and blood, but he was too busy nearly falling on his face in the sand to reply. Besides there was no sense in upsetting Dru. It would take forever to calm her down, and it would spoil the whole event. He stopped where Dru had laid out the flowers and candles in a huge oval. He put Ann into the cleared spot. Dru took a lace tablecloth out of the bag she had had the candles in and covered Ann with it.

Dru took Spike’s hands and kissed him. “Our childe will be beautiful.”

“But of course,” Spike said, kissing her back. What he was really thinking was Ann was hot, sex-starved and rich.

Spike led Dru to the nearby dune and sat down. Dru sat on his lap. She leaned back against him, watching the candles around Ann dance in the breeze. Spike nuzzled the back of her neck enjoying the way his angel smelled. He had stolen the bottle of perfume for her, a wonderful mix of rose, hyacinth, gardenias and orange blossoms. It smelled of innocence and beauty. His dark princess deserved it. She was a vision in her manly slacks and Schiaparelli sweater. The trompe l’oeil sweater was black with skeletal ribs. Dru had got it special for tonight. Her loose hair fluttered in the breeze, tickling his face. There was no other place he wanted to be.

“I’m glad we’re going to have Ann with us now, for your sake, Dru,” Spike whispered.

She looked at him questioningly. “My star?”

He embraced her so tightly her ribs creaked. “I almost turned to dust today. That would have left you alone. I never want you to be alone, Dru. Never. At least you would have had Ann.”

Dru made a small startled sound, snuggling in so tight Spike thought she was trying to crawl inside his skin. The idea of her being along frightened her as much as it frightened him. He realized she had never been alone. Angelus had torn her from her family, and she had been with him or Spike ever since. If he could help it, Dru would never be alone.

Dru’s sharp, lacquered nails pinched his arm. She pointed at the birthing circle. “Our childe awakes.”

Spike let Dru go, and she all but skipped back to Ann’s side. Ann sat up slowly, the lace dripping off her, somehow suggestive and erotic. Her dark eyes blinked rapidly then she craned her head up at the vampires.

“It worked.” She sounded surprised, flexing her fingers as if to test that they actually worked.

“Welcome back, Ann,” Spike said, holding a hand out to her.

She got up shakily, and Dru held her steady. 

“You look wonderful, like shadows on the moon’s face,” Dru said, brushing at Ann’s dark hair.

“I’m hungry,” Ann said, holding her crampy stomach.

“Well, it’s a bit of a hike back to civilization but I have just the two people for you to eat when we get there,” Spike said, and Ann moaned. “Don’t complain. At least we got you before you were buried. Dru wasn’t so lucky with me. I had to dig my way out of the grave.” Spike shuddered a bit. He hated remembering that. He had no idea what had happened to him. He remembered dying, never knowing what Dru was. Then the terror of waking up in a coffin. He still thought himself alive, buried by some mistake. He remembered splintering the wood and the feel of the earth under his fingers, filling his mouth. He still woke with nightmares about it.

Dru kissed his cheek. “My poor boy. He didn’t have a proper birth. But you, Ann, it was perfect.”

“Yeah, if you can call me getting cursed for my troubles, perfect,” Spike grumbled, heading up the beach.

Ann gave him a curious look. Spike and Dru filled her in as they walked towards the civilized parts of the beach. Ann’s rage grew with every revelation.

“He was having an affair with that prig of a sister of mine? I can’t believe this! She has the gall to sit in judgment over me, call me a floozy when that’s all the better she is herself for all her moralizing and justifying her needs?” Ann kicked up a plume of sand. “She could have had that imbecile if she wanted him. I had no plans of ever marrying him.”

“I’m more pissed about the fact she sent a vengeance demon after me. I nearly died!” Spike said highly offended.

“My poor Spike,” Dru said, squeezing his hand. “What would you have done without me?” 

He nipped her fingers. “I’m nothing without you, pet.” 

“Sometimes you two are just so sappy. So let’s go find my sister.” Ann grinned maliciously.

“I want to finish off your sister. You can make your fiancé your first meal,” Spike said.

“Deal.”

Emily wasn’t in her hotel suite but they learned from the concierge she had gone into the amusement parks, looking for someone. Spike and Dru realized she was trying to harass them further. Gleefully the trio of vampires headed into the park. They found Emily with Alester in Luna Park skulking around The Pit, one of the fun houses.

“There you are. Well, I must say I’m shocked. You two out in the park,” Spike said, glancing over his shoulder to be sure Ann was still well hidden.

“We went for Ann’s final viewing before the burial tomorrow, and she was gone. That horrible Pinkerton was in her coffin. Can you imagine the scandal? You stole her body, didn’t you? And murdered that detective?” Emily snarled, advancing on Spike.

“Me? You’re the one cheating on her with her own fiancé,” Spike said as Dru hypnotized four tickets to the fun house off of the vendor.

“Why would we kill the Pinkerton?” Alester asked.

“You’re stupid?” Spike asked, taking the tickets off of Dru. He tossed two to them. “If you want to talk about this, better stick close.”

Alester caught the tickets and they followed Spike and Dru in. Spike knew they wouldn’t be able to resist. He saw Ann falling into step behind them. He and Dru worked their way into the fun house, laughing when Emily screamed as a fake skeleton jumped out at them. 

“We’re just not going to follow you like dogs,” Alester said, pulling Spike to a halt.

Spike shrugged him off. “Oh really. Looks like you’re doing a good job of it.”

“We’re going to prove you killed my sister and Mr. Bushnell,” Emily said, having to cram herself through the narrow fun house corridors.

“Spike didn’t kill that nasty nasty man,” Dru said, stroking Alester’s arm. She was nearly knocked off her feet when Emily tossed herself between them. The mortal woman swatted at Dru who lithely danced away. “I killed him. He put his hands between my legs, filthy creature.”

“Y-you?” Alester asked, looking stunned at the admission. Screams of other patrons echoed from deeper in the fun house.

“I couldn’t let him touch me, now could I?” Dru laughed. 

“And as for your sister? Neither of us killed her. She’s not dead,” Spike said, his lips peeling away from his white teeth in something other than a smile.

“What are you talking about? Of course she’s dead. I saw her body that is until you stole it and put that man in her coffin. I cry to think about what you might be doing to poor Ann’s body,” Emily moaned loudly.

“He only does what I ask him to,” Ann said, coming up behind them.

Emily’s shriek was ear splitting. She fainted and ended up wedged against a funhouse display. Alester back away but Dru caught him. 

“Naughty boy. No running until Ann has her say,” Dru scolded. 

Spike slapped Emily’s face. “Come on you cow, wake up.”

Emily’s eyes fluttered open and Spike hauled her back to her feet.

“Fuck me, I think that herniated something.” Spike rubbed his back.

“How...how is this possible? It has to be make up. That’s not Ann. You just hired someone who looked like her to say she’s alive and get all my money,” Emily screeched, clinging onto Alester.

“Your money, sis? I don’t think so. And how could you climb on top of her, Alester?” Ann spat. “Not that I wanted you on me, so it all worked out in the end. My money is all withdrawn nice and safe from the bank, Emily, along with most of yours since I knew you wouldn’t be needing it.”

“What do you mean?” Emily trembled, staring into her sister’s pale face. “No, this isn’t real. You’re an actress.”

“Has to be. We saw you dead with your throat cut,” Alester said.

“Bitten actually, by Dru here.” Spike said, hugging his lover.

“Born into darkness where she belongs,” Dru said.

“See, sis? A fun house is the best place to end this. How ironic we found you here. I guess technically I am dead, or undead as the case may be. Can I finish this now? I’m so hungry, Spike,” Ann said, giving him an imploring look.

“Please do before someone tries to come through here,” Spike said, his face going demonic. Ann and Dru followed suit.

As Alester and Emily’s screams died in their throats, Ann grabbed Alester.

“I’m a real vamp now.” Ann laughed. “And I owe you for cheating on me.” She sunk her fangs into Alester.

“And as for you cursing me, Emily, I should torture you but you know, you just aren’t worth the effort,” Spike said and he and Dru made a feast of her. Spike shoved both bodies into the attraction next to the skeleton. Spike wiped his mouth. “Who’s for a ride on the Trip to the Moon roller coaster?”

X X X

Spike looked at his women. Train trips were dangerous but they had paid well enough for their car they didn’t have much to worry about being disturbed or exposed to light. Both Ann and Dru were in silk smoking suits with fur ankle trim. Dru’s was scarlet and Ann’s silver. They wore matching turbans and both were smoking Egyptian cigarettes from long silver holders. Ann had affected a monocle to complete her look. They were both delicious as far as he was concerned, puffing his cheap cigarette sans holder.

“You’re sure about this, Ann?” Spike asked, as Dru leaned against him.

“Positive. I’ve always wanted to see Chicago. They say the night life there is incredible,” Ann replied.

“Well, fantastic nightlife, who am I to argue with that,” Spike said. Dru laughed and nibbled his chin. He was quite happy. Two beautiful women, plenty of money and excitement on the horizon. He knew Ann would get bored with them quickly enough but she was likely to give them a lot of money to go their own way. Getting cursed aside, this had turned out well. Spike sighed, content with his little world.

A knock sounded on their compartment’s door and a young woman looked in. “Would you like something from the tea cart?”

“You bet.”

Spike grabbed the girl, kicking the cart down the car. He dragged her inside. The vampires feasted, stuffed her with great difficulty out the window and settled back for the long trip to Chicago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awards won
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